


That Sings the Tune without the Words and Never Stops at All

by Bubblebirdie



Series: AoS 2020 August AUs [4]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Fluff, Gen, In a way, Light Angst, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:33:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25742143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bubblebirdie/pseuds/Bubblebirdie
Summary: When Jemma and Bobbi find Daisy on the edge of death, they know it isn't by chance.Or a Soulmate AU for people who don't like Soulmate AUs
Relationships: Bobbi Morse & Jemma Simmons & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Bobbi Morse/Jemma Simmons/Skye | Daisy Johnson
Series: AoS 2020 August AUs [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862377
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24
Collections: AOS AU August 2020, Women of the MCU





	That Sings the Tune without the Words and Never Stops at All

**Author's Note:**

> You can read this as platonic or romantic, whatever floats your boat.

Daisy Johnson and death were casual acquaintances. Not close enough that death would relinquish her life without a second thought, but close enough that it paused for a moment and gave her a chance. Maybe it pitied the girl because it knew she wouldn’t be missed. Although that just made it easier for death to take her life, so perhaps it was its old friend pain that convinced death otherwise. Daisy Johnson and pain were good friends after all. It could be after seeing her story, death too wanted the young girl to succeed. The ways of the world are mysterious, the ways of death even more so, but it was no coincidence that as Daisy lay in an unconscious in an alley, death cupping her cheek while blood spilled from her faster than the rain could wash it away that a young scientist happened upon her. And then, pain appeared by her side, holding her hand, and tugging her into the world of the living before death could change its mind. Death sighed and stared longingly at what might’ve been theirs before swooping away to find another to take in her place.

The young scientist was curled up in a chair at her bedside, misty waves spilling over the cold metal. Pain took a step back. A woman entered the room, tall enough to hand Daisy the stars and moon and woke the other. They were in conversation now, glancing at Daisy every once a phrase or so. Pain could tell when it was not needed; it kissed Daisy on the head before fading into the moonlight, praying that it need not see her again for a long time.

The light that pierced her eyes was too bright for death, besides, she doubted ascending would feel this painful. She also doubted whether she would ascend at all, but that was a whole other pile of issues she planned to dig into absolutely never. There were also voices, that were definitely not singing angels- more like bickering women. 

“You should go home- rest, take a shower,”

“Bobbi, I’m fine.”

“Really? You’ve been sleeping on a metal chair for the past 8 hours.”

“Exactly, rested.”

“And smelly. Darling your clothes are covered in blood.”

“Whose fault is it for not bringing a change of clothing then.”

Daisy could feel her body, motionless, digging into the mattress. Trying to transfer all the weight it could not carry onto an object that did not have the struggle of living. Of contending with once choices. Her soul was ragged and torn. It was stretched thin and nearly see through. When one’s soul gets to that state, it can be nearly impossible to go on. But the voices, one quite distinctly British, washed over her, seeping into her bones. She did not know it yet, but they were there to stay, to memorize the structure of her molecules, and to help her mend her soul.

“Thank you,” she rasped once water had trickled down her throat and oiled her vocal cords. She may not have known that they would be there later on, and she may have been quite a bit of a rebel. But just because she was raised in an incredibly toxic environments, didn’t mean she wasn’t raised with manners. They had saved her life. That was certainly momentous, but they had also stayed and that meant the world.

“Oh, dear,” and the way the brunette shot out of her chair to fuss about her meant even more, “you really shouldn’t be talking. The state I found you in,” The blonde placed a grounding hand on her shoulder and gave her a lopsided, half smile. She was less frantic because while the mothering made Daisy feel important and wanted, the reassuring steadiness of her made Daisy feel safe.

“We obviously don’t know how you caught into that situation. But its none of our business, you can tell us whenever you feel ready or not at all. If you have someone who could take care of you, that would be great. But, Rockstar, we are here for you. We may not know you but,” the brunette, Jemma, Daisy thought, settled by her legs, playing shyly with her fingers, “we would be happy to let you stay with us, at least until you’ve healed up. You’re in no state to live by yourself. I may only be an intern, but I can tell you that much,”

Daisy wanted to open her mouth, to let a flood of words pour out, to tell them exactly how grateful she was. But instead, she pressed her lips together and nodded because she didn’t want Jemma to start going off on her again.

It’s a two-way street you know- when Bobbi and Jemma opened their arms, Daisy gladly let them embrace her. Perhaps if they were any other, she might have pushed them away. But death had given her a chance to stay. It is easier to let someone pick you up after you fall. It is easier to not have to fight alone. So many chose to when weary. But Daisy had faced death without no one to greet her on either side whatever the outcome would be. She had learned then, was still learning, and had yet to in the future that it was better not to be so.

“- my van is parked there. It’s bright purple, you can’t miss it. The keys should be in my clothes,” she swallowed her stupid pride and let herself be driven to a tiny apartment, let herself be helped up three flights of stairs because the elevators weren’t working. She drank the soup that Bobbi made her and took her pills without mostly Jemma’s insistence. Some days it was hard. We all have those days. She wasn’t sure how to love herself yet. She was learning, and on her way there, she did it for them. So that by the time she fell back in love with the color of the eyes and became proud of her coding skills; that wasn’t all she loved.

The apartment was bathed in the evening glow and the warmth of the candles that she had set around the breakfast nook. Daisy chewed on licorice as she worked, stirring the sauce and checking on the past alternatively.

“Daisy, I’m home!” Jemma closed the door softly behind her as she was overwhelmed by the scent of the candles- specifically the ones that occupied the romantic space in her collection. Daisy’s eyes were shimmering, reflecting the flames and the stars that were just beginning to peek out. Her mouth dropped into a tiny little ‘o’; Jemma didn’t need to ask what it was for. When she had taken it all in, she padded over to Daisy and took over mixing the sauce. All that was missing was Bobbi.

A comfortable silence had settled over the apartment. It was one they expected to be broken by the sound of Bobbi any minute then with a “Hey, loves” or “What are we having for dinner?” not a “Woof!” and a “Shh, down girl.” I don’t think I need to stress that it was the latter.

“Bobbi!”

“Puppy!”

“Are dogs even aloud?” Jemma’s hands settled on her hips, and she tilted her head at the taller woman.

“Aww, come here, sweetheart,” Daisy dropped to her knees pulling the puppy into her lap. Her laugh filling the night as she licked her face.

“Yes, Jemma. Now, come on give her some love,” Bobbi sat down next to Daisy, and Jemma followed suit.

“What’s her name?” Daisy buried her nose in her fur, stroking her softly.

“You can call her whatever you want,” and then, Jemma’s eyes lit up as she fell over herself to find the list of dog names that she denied existed. The list ended up covered in drool and the names unused. They settled down for dinner with a new member of their family and the idea of getting a bigger apartment in the works. Daisy had wanted to sit them down- to thank them for letting her into their home and their hearts. She had wanted to ask if it was okay for her to love them and if they wanted to love her back.

She hadn’t realized until just then, that she didn’t need to ask because they already did. She had her people.

“What are you thinking about love?”

“Nothing,” but silently, she whispered words of thanks to the universe because she knew that it was no coincidence that the tiny genius had stumbled across her that day in the alley.

**Author's Note:**

> Also, someone please scream at me about 7x11. Birdie.exe stopped working. It was amazing and awesome and beautiful. The parallels! And part of me is debating whether or not to even watch the finale. Maybe, I'll never watch it. I just- this can't be over.


End file.
